


Seventeen is too old

by tcoawnn



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Space, Eren will be introduced a few chapters in, Erwin is the biggest nerd of them all, F/M, M/M, Polyamory, Suicidal Thoughts, and no Eren isn't going to magically "fix" Levis depression, future smut probably, i cant believe im writing about nerd school, sad levi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-22
Updated: 2014-05-22
Packaged: 2018-01-26 02:57:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1672121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tcoawnn/pseuds/tcoawnn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the gifted children of gifted military commanders and officers, Erwin and Levi were raised in competition with each other. Still children, they're sent off to battle school, a haven for the prodigies of earth. Built about 50 years ago, after the first titan attack on earth, Battle school's a massive space station orbiting just inside the solar system.  Here, they train to fulfill the ultimate goal of humanity; to exterminate the titans, but Levi just can't seem to find meaning in anything he does. Every Earth year, a hundred, young, brilliant minds from every corner of the globe enter this rigorous schooling system, and thirteen Earth years later, they graduate. Levi and Erwin have reached their long-awaited final year, but with the arrival of the new "launchies", carrying with them a very special, very strange boy, comes the upending of the system and maybe even Levi's own convictions. </p><p>[[ Futuristic space AU. Setting based heavily on the Enders Game universe ]]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seventeen is too old

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not gonna lie; i have no idea what I'm doing or why, but I've had this idea stuck in my head for a while. If you haven't read and/or watched Enders Game, I'm hoping this will still be understandable but i HIGHLY recommend you check the books out at some point in you're life (imo they're brilliant). If you have any questions/comments/criticisms i would be super glad to hear them :) This first chapter will be a setup of the premise of the story and things should pick up the pace a little in chapter 2.... so, that's pretty much it! ENJOY! 
> 
> (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧
> 
> Off to battle school we go.
> 
> (Unnecessary AVPM reference: you just just GO to battle school. Its in space. You NEED a rocket ship, do you have a rocket ship, reader?)

Both of us were military children. Which in essence, I suppose, means that we never really were children in the first place. Its always been like this; taught to think but not to feel, taught to respect but never to seek love. The goals were driven, secured into our heads from the very start; ultimate efficiency and levelheadedness in all situations. And while we fought each other for supremacy and the acceptance of our elders, Erwin and I also fell into a mutual, grudging sort of friendship. Friendship wasn't actually a concept we'd been able to completely understand at the time, but it manifested itself in the smallest things. We knew each other; back to front, top to bottom. In hand-to-hand combat with me, though we were equally matched, he'd always slow his strike before impact, just ever so slightly, knowing his advantage in size also meant more inertia. I, in turn, tried to keep my bitter comments to a minimum around him, he was the only one who I smiled at. I was better - much better - in the acrobatic sense. On the ground or flying through the air, every movement I made was calculated, enough to get the attention of even those in the highest of ranks. He, however, found comfort in strategy and the workings of logic. Erwin's like that - he wrote a lot of good, smart things that even the well established logicians and strategists marveled at, and that saw him brought into the spotlight along with me. By our seventh birthdays, it had been decided; the world could no longer accommodate us; our futures lay amongst the stars, further from earth than anyone but a few hundred lonely souls had ever been.

Its been twelve years, twelve years and ten minutes, since Erwin and I last stood on earth as poor excuses for children.

The tea was scalding, just out of the machine. I held it gingerly along the rim, watching the luminescent screen on my wall count seconds. This was one thing that had excited Erwin immensely when we had just arrived; an entire wall of each room was in fact, a high definition touch screen through which large stores of information could be accessed. All screens were powered by a single supercomputer of sorts, we had been told, but our account codes determined what information we were allowed to view. While Erwin hacked the system to gain wider access, I stole the corporals code to see if I could find any porn (I was, sadly, disappointed). It became my nickname soon after, The Corporal, as a result of the whole exploit. I stayed mainly with Erwin - friends, but only to our level of understanding - despite the myriad of other teenagers shot up into this parody of a space school for training. Sure, I knew everybody in my launch group (they called them legions, don't ask me why, I wouldn't be able to tell you) back to front. Names, skills, weaknesses, social links, sexuality, gender, fears. That was a given; the expected amount of understanding. That didn't mean I liked them because of it.

They sort of took to me, though, both Erwin and me. Maybe it was because of our rankings - popularity had meaning here too. Erwin and I were at the very top of this new collection of prodigies, our heads still scraping the metaphorical ceiling.

Erwin insists this school isn't just here to teach us to fight titans, he says that the ships for retaliation must have already been sent; that there's no rhyme or reason in having waited these 50 years preparing to defend against their next attack. When he says it, it sounds smart. I cant argue, I agree, but I do ask, what were we doing here, then? Whats _our_ purpose? Erwin's has theories, he says its probably political, he says our battle school isn't just a safe haven for humanities greatest, he says it might be for after war. I've never thought about "after the war"; none of the students have. Only him. Erwin tells me it makes sense, that they take us so young, before we have time to form any real ideas about the world, and I think about it. I don't remember my fathers face, or his political affiliations. I don't remember any of my birthdays, or if I enjoyed his company. Erwin's right, he has to be. They ripped earth away from us at the root, like a weed, yet the ground is still fertile enough. They plant their own ideas inside our heads and we don't know any better. We have nothing to compare it to. I smile, because all I can imagine is one of those old fashioned production lines back on Earth, except instead of cars or televisions, its us. Our skulls popped open at the top, filled with dark soil. Some of the teachers are pulling out a green plant while others are planting a purple one.

What happens to the graduates battle school? That's easy, Erwin says. We're the best soldiers, smart and strong and tactical and fiercely loyal. Battle school is our home now, not earth; we'll fight whoever they ask and not one of us will question it. I'm no exception. Earth means nothing to me anymore and whatever feelings of belonging I have are all directed towards the people in my legion. Erwin has to be right, I just know it.

Shifting the lightweight, heat sealing cup from hand to hand, I face the door. Erwin would be here soon; these sort of things actually held meaning to people like him. He had even planned a party of some sort with our whole launch group to celebrate our survival of these past twelve years in space. To me, it didn't really make sense, this celebration of time passing - yes, well done you've kept breathing for this entire time and even managed to age seven years in the process. Oh, high ho. Not that there were any opportunities that actually allowed you to cease breathing; I'd tried, oh I'd tried so many times. But everything was so fucking safe, there was no need for knives, and the required pills were ground directly into our food. There weren't even any fatal drops in this type of space station build. In addition, it was almost impossible to get more than five minutes of private time anywhere but the bathrooms.

Once, on a particularly bad day, I'd actually laid in bed thinking about asking Erwin to suffocate me and then burrowing my head into the pillow in shame. So, yes, I kept on breathing, for Erwin sake, if not my own.

Speaking of the devil - the cold, calculating, brilliant devil - the door clicked as Erwin pushed into my room, silhouetted by the white hallway lights. I don't think I've mentioned it before, but he's got this personality which makes everybody want to do whatever he says, just to please him. He demands respect without uttering a single word. That's sort of why he's the primary candidate for Commander of our legion once we finish our final year. I felt my back straightening, more attentive now that Erwin's here; I tell myself I've grown immune to his powerful disposition. That's not exactly true.

"Levi, you're not in one of your moods again, are you?" He flicks the manual light switch, illuminating a pristine but otherwise impersonal bedroom. My bedroom. Thing is, he's completely insensitive to things that don't make sense to him, like why I would choose to sit in a dark room instead of a bright one. I don't waste energy getting annoyed at him anymore, "Ivy, overhead lights off"

Ivy is the computer. They called it Ivy because its fourth generation software (whatever that means). In roman numerals: IV. Eye - vee. Brain dead joke, in my opinion. The lights dim down and then completely extinguish. Here, most of my classmates would say something like "Thank you, Ivy" and the machine would reply with "My pleasure" in its synthetic tones before depositing a few dollars into our individual bank accounts as a reward. The practice is supposed to teach us to treat artificial intelligence like we would treat other humans, but since I never thank people either, I don't bother with this subtle brainwashing.

"surely, Erwin, you don't mean to tell me you're still scared of the dark?" I quip. Its blatantly half-hearted, like most of my jokes these days. Erwin tells me I'm going through _teenage angst_. He's not much older than me, less than a year actually, I don't know why he treats me like a child. He shrugs my words off along with his jacket and sits down on my desk. Directly on my desk; his ass right on top of it. I grind my teeth.

"they're waiting for us, you know. In the rec room. Party" Erwin gives me a reproachful look, he knows I knew about the party. I can actually see the thought form in his head: _why do I bother_ , "Petra bought the cake. Eld and Gunther got the alcohol. Everybody's excited, there's music."

I mentally roll my eyes, but stand up anyway. I do it for Erwin, I do everything for him. Seriously, without him I would probably have been deported years ago. Back down to earth, to live with the '"mundanes"'. The civilians. Shameful business, the teachers tell us, shameful. Erwin would survive without me, but he says he wouldn't. That why.

I throw off my uniform, right in front of him. He doesn't care, I don't care. Clothes, no clothes its all the same. In the mean time, Erwin pulls items of regular clothing from my wardrobe. Jeans; black, skinny. A button up. Want me to wear a tie too? I ask him. He doesn't respond, above my sarcasm in all respects. He's not the only one asking the question, I'm thinking the same thing: why do you bother? We leave the room together, me tucking my key card into a back pocket.

Erwin's cringing. I took way too long with my makeup, now we're going to be late. Its just black eyeliner, the only thing I actually, willingly spend money on; mainly because it helps distract people from the bruising under my eyes. Erwin has a lot of arguments against makeup, I never listen to them, something about masking the truth from people, fooling them. At the door of the rec room, Erwin nudges me forward, get a hold of yourself, he's saying. Let them have their fun.

The room erupts in cheers at our arrival, 60 odd teenagers under the high ceiling yelling mindless phrases. Mind you, anything more than eight foot is considered a high ceiling in the station; a matter of principle. Drinks are pushed into our hands, I take it eagerly, caring less about the taste and more about the effect. Aururo shadows me, now that Erwin's not by my side, I nod at him but don't feel any need to initiate a conversation, I'm nowhere near drunk enough to. The night unfolds in front of my eyes, I let myself settle deeper into the soft couch, eyes glazed over. For a while, I watch Eld and Gunther pulling pulling pranks on unsuspecting party-goers - mainly Hanji. As they stumble and manage to fall flat on their face, I give them a chuckle and Petra draws me into a conversation about how the efficiency of our 3DM gear could be improved. While I normally do not make an effort to talk to Petra all that often, her arguments are genuinely engrossing and I find myself nodding along, not even minding the atmosphere.

"they've synthesized a new, hyperflexible material back on earth, and we should be receiving a shipment of it along with this years launchies. I hope they let us play around with it in engineering!" Petra is great. Really. Shes so.... Alive. So happy. I envy her for it, this eternal energy, curiosity, positivity. Hanji's got it too, everyone here does; I'm the only one who can't see past my own concerns. I watch Petra attentively, mirroring her own smile slightly, even, but she can tell I've fallen back into the darker recesses of my mind.

"Levi, you're the top of our null gravity combat class," Petra leans forward, engaging me, "and I've been needing a second opinion; the blades we use, are they entirely to your satisfaction? Is there any formation or movement that is hindered by their thickness?"

Petra scored perfect marks in the empathy section of our entry assessment. She wont make me talk if I don't want to, but she'll draw me out of my thoughts without any effort. I'm forced to focus on my reply.

The digital clock has already ticked over to 2300 as I play a few rounds of a reflex-based game against Aururo; he's the only one in the entire legion that can actually give me a run for my money and he takes it as a opportunity to get Petras eyes on him. I let him beat me, time and tine again, because Aururo is genuinely a nice guy, and while he drives me up the wall more often than not and his hygiene is questionable, I'd really like to see him make Petra happy.

Nothing but a normal party.

By midnight, Erwin and Petra and Aururo are gone, along with three quarters of the attendance, most moaning about the early morning training that's scheduled for tomorrow. The cake's also starting to look pretty nonexistent. For the life of me I cannot fathom why I'm still glued to the couch, in a tight circle with about five other members of our launch group - none of which I talk to on a regular basis. I guess 'too drunk to care' could explain it pretty well. I tune in just to catch the tail end of a conversation about recreational drugs as Nile Dawk huffs triumphantly and pushes his laptop further along the table for us all to see the screen,

"I finally got the files; don't know why they call it a firewall if anyone with half a brain can walk though it -- these are this years launchies!" Dawk raises his voice gleefully towards the end, his sharp teeth flashing in a grin, " Fresh meat."

(I'm almost certain that the system admins and teachers decided to leave back doors to their file stores intentionally. As sort of a mind game, to see what information we really want and to what ends we'll go to find it, but I don't tell Nile this.)

There are whoops and cheers as he opens the first file, the mug shot showing a dark skinned girl with pigtails and cold eyes. Her report shows that she topped the rest of her group in micromanagement and tactics but scored lower marks in the empathy section. Dawk flicks through a couple of files before pausing on another kid, this one is all freckles and smiles, Marco Bodt, top score in the humanities section. Religion: Christian. We chuckle at that a little; most religions died out around the first titan attack in earth, its beyond rare to find anyone like Bodt.

Most of the files bore me half to death, and an entire half hour passes until I finally see something interesting. Its a seventeen year old.  
A few glances are exchanged.

Launchies range from seven to about ten years old. Nobody ever even considers bringing anybody older into the station; seventeen is too old, the mind's not as impressionable to the brainwashing, the body isn't as good at acclimatizing to the 'celestial' life. No, if they're bringing a seventeen year old into the station, the kid must be very, very unusual.

There's no mug shot and most sections of the file are empty; except front his age and gender, there are only three words in red font, "genetic enhancement: confirmed."

Genetically... Enhanced?

Nile tries to mine for more information, but hits a dead end at every turn, and soon even our ragtag group grows bored and stumbles back to their rooms. I try not to think about it too much, but the thoughts stick with me until I fall asleep that night. One very special kid is, at this very moment, on his way to the station. I'm scared for him, but I'm also excited for the first time in god knows how long. The monotony of this all-variables-controlled life was that nothing unexpected ever happened. It was a dead, programmed existence and only now was I certain that something was about to change.

Whether the change would be for better or for worse, I don't know and I can't find it within me to care.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not suicidal and never have been, so i cant tell how realistic Levi's experience is. I would have left it out but i thought it was an adequate way to demonstrate how strictly under control everything is in battle school. 
> 
> ANYWAY, thanks for reading! im hoping you enjoyed that. There are probably a few ridiculous typos in there that i missed. Once again, questions/comments/criticisms are all very welcome on here (or if tumblr is your thing -- im tcoawnn on there too)


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